Hopeless
by Cambion Delacroix
Summary: It was hopeless, the Prussian knew that. And yet, this was the closest Gilbert had ever been to what people call 'love'. PruPol. T for Prussia's mouth.


It was hopeless.

The Prussian was no fool; he did not assume there was anything between them, which given their situation would be an easy mistake to make. They were lovers, but without love. It was a relationship without actual relations, so Gilbert berated himself to recall time and time again.

And yet, this was the closest Gilbert had ever been to what people call 'love'. He'd never had relationships or marriages, and he'd never had more to do with it than a conquering fuck and moving on like it never happened. All he'd known was fruitless yearning, rough sex, and that little brother that more-than-likely hated him by now. Even his so-called 'friends' weren't exactly affection; he mocked them to keep his distance, to remain alone, or so he let on.

And yet even him, Mr. Clueless, could tell this wasn't how real relationships should be. He'd seen how Roderich and Eli would stare into each other's eyes, with all that lovey dovey shit. And he could tell the difference between the way Francis looked at his whores and how he looked at that fucked up Brit. He knew what that look, that glance of adoration in one's eyes looked like.

The way Feliks looked at him wasn't love.

So that's why, when it came down to it, Gilbert didn't care that this happened. Not a single moment of stress crossed his mind over it. Why the h-hell would it?

"Feliks?" he called, leaning against the wall of Poland's house.

"Like, yeah?" the other questioned, glancing over at the tall albino. The look in his eyes was the same as always; mildly curious, but nothing else.

Just. Fucking. Nothing.

"Since ya like, don't really seem to like me anyway, we should just break up, y'know?" The question was casual, a flick of red eyes and a bored expression. And yet his heart was racing the whole time. So fast, that he almost forgot to glance at the other, though he already assumed his reaction.

The look in Feliks' eyes was different from what he'd ever seen directed at him. It reminded him of how he looked at Tor… No, shut the fuck up, it was nothing.

So he reminded himself as he silently dismissed himself from the Polish man's home.

The night that followed was like the many nights from years before. He returned to his usual home of staying with West, but by now it was hardly a home. He wasn't a nation, and West was a busy guy. He remained in the cold basement, alone. Like he'd always been, like he preferred.

Yes, yes, he wanted it that way, he told himself, tears staining the pages of his journal entry that had been cut off halfway. An entry hadn't gone unfinished in centuries. Not since Old Fritz died. He'd even written every day as East Germany, and even when his status as a nation has been ripped from his own hands.

And yet today, the pen rolled off the page, and he didn't pick it up again.

Gilbert had grown far from 'home'. It made him sick to be there too long, like the walls of the underground were crushing him, and he had to get out. He went partying, he went drinking, and things were relatively back to normal. Antonio and Francis noted he was with them more, but by the looks on their faces, they didn't seem to mind.

Months later, he was crowded in the back of a taxi. It smelled of wine, and a little beer, and they weren't even to their destination. Laughter and swear words were rich in the air. So rich, in fact, that the Prussian barely noticed his phone go off a total of five times. On the sixth ring, Antonio was the one to tug Gilbert's phone from his pocket, dangling it in front of his face.

Not bothering to check the caller ID, he snatched the phone, and flipped it open to answer.

Before he could get a word out, a high-pitched voice said, "Oh my god, like hello!" It… It was Feliks.

Gilbert's previous smirk faded to an almost blank grimace, annoyed and confused. "Uh, hey?" Antonio and Francis didn't like this frowning, prodding at his arm. They both received a blunt smack.

There was a brief silence, like he didn't know what to say. That only pissed off the Prussian more. "I like, just wanted to—T-Totally tell y-you—Um, like—" What the hell was he rambling about? If he had something to say he should just spit it out!

"Tell me what?" he all but shouted at him, mostly annoyed but a bit… excited, about what he might have to say?

But of course, he wouldn't know, would he? "I like, h-have to go, b-bye!" Then the beep sounded, informing him the call had been ended. He groaned involuntarily, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

If his friends had any question about what had just happened, it was quickly dismissed by his glare. Great, his whole mood was ruined; brought back to where it was two months ago.

He hated it.

Gilbert was rarely home anymore, so much it was almost insane. West was surprised when he came back, even though he never took his stuff with him for wherever he went to slump off to for a few weeks.

So when he returned, it was no surprise for West to be startled. "Ah, you're back," he said, voice raised in his general strict way.

"Yeah," the albino answered, shrugging to head downstairs. Right now, all he wanted was to lay down in his own bed, and sleep.

"Oi, wait!" the younger German called after him. "There's a letter for you."

An eyebrow quirked up, rather confused, before reaching back towards the bulky man to grab the envelope held between his fat fingers. Without a glance at the envelope, he walked downstairs, locking the basement door. Then he sat down against the wall and stared at the envelope.

He'd not gotten a letter in a while – there was business, but anything that slightly related to him was handled by West anyway. So it had to be perso—

His train of thought was cut off upon registering the return address. It was from Warsaw. From Feliks—In a matter of moments he was tearing open the paper around the letter, not giving a shit how pathetic it was. For not caring.

_Gilbert,_

_Hey, like, how are you? It's been a while, like, six months, right? Wow, it's been so long! How's Ludwig? I'm sure he's been very like, strict. What about like, Antonio and Francis? How've they been? Good, I hope! You guys, like, all still friends? I've been like, so worried-_

_Well, anyways. Um, Gilbert? I'm all like, I kind of feel totally- I feel like totally- Amazing! Yeah, although it's been a bit lonely-_

_Oh, I like, got my nails done! They're hot pink now, totally covered in the cutest sparkles! I really do adore them, they're like, totally the best! But it was like, totally boring without you there-_

_I mean like, I got my hair done! It's a bit shorter and I totally think it's wonderful! I think you'd like, like it too but-_

_I get a lot of compliments, like all the time! But none of them matter if they're not-_

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_-Feliks_

_P.S. Oh, and you should like, sing to me again sometime? If that's like, okay of course.._

Gilbert couldn't remember the last time his tears had stained someone else's words.

**A/N: Hope that was enjoyed! This was a collaboration with my friend mustard. on storywrite. cB Go check out her story "Loveless" for the other half!**


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